


Guard Duty

by CoralTypewriter



Series: Clone Stories [5]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Activism, Clones, College, Developing Friendships, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Manipulative Sheev Palpatine, POV Third Person Limited, Politics, Pre-Relationship, Present Tense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:07:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24175579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoralTypewriter/pseuds/CoralTypewriter
Summary: As the two make their way towards the food court, Fox knows that if he gets to see her more often then, yeah, he might start liking guard duty.[A sequel to "Traffic Duty"]
Relationships: CC-1010 | Fox & Original Female Character(s)
Series: Clone Stories [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2120856
Comments: 6
Kudos: 44





	Guard Duty

**Author's Note:**

> 01/10/21: This is revised version. First paragraph was cut shorter for flow. Originally, the student was wearing a Wolfpack t-shirt, but is now wearing a Coruscant Guard one.

An important note: Fox can learn to enjoy guard duty, but only if he’s stationed at institutions other than the senate. It’s already mind numbingly boring without politicians wringing the last drops of patience out of him. Maybe that’s why he likes Senator Amidala so much (besides her compassionate nature), she’s always getting into trouble. Granted, she usually gets herself out of those situations, but it gives him and his fellow guards an opportunity to stretch their legs. 

After the mysterious disappearance of two art history professors, the amount of security at the University of Coruscant doubled overnight. Thorn had volunteered Fox to oversee the operation while he took over Fox’s duties at the senate. While grateful to be away from Palpatine, anxiety festers in the pit of his stomach, twisting into knots. Would Thorn become subject to Palpatine’s mind control too? 

That’s the only way Fox can describe it. It still doesn’t explain _how_ though. The Chancellor isn’t a Jedi, so it’s not Force mind-tricks. He’s heard about the witches on Dathomir, but doubts the Chancellor associates with them. Fox’s also certain he’s not infected with one of those brain worms from Geonosis. Even if he were, it only left more questions: how could Palaptine control the hive? 

_“Commander Fox, execute Order—”_

The words echo in his mind. They’re always contingency orders and nothing else matters when Palpatine gives them. Fox’s loyalty to the Republic overrules his personal ones, his aggression and determination increase tenfold, and nothing anyone says can snap him out of it. Not until the mission’s complete. Maybe it’s an exaggeration, or at least inaccurate, to say he loses himself completely. He’s still in there, he knows what he’s doing. It’s just—It’s like being in the passenger seat of your own mind, unable to take back the wheel.

The question remains if Palpatine’s even aware of it. Perhaps the Kaminoans put control chips in their heads, forcing clones to comply with any and all orders given to them. Fox wouldn’t put it past them to do such a thing, though it sounds crazy. He’s not crazy, right? If Palptine doesn’t know and Fox informs him, the Chancellor’s kind of person to take full advantage of that knowledge. If Palpatine knows about the ‘control chips’, telling him will certainly land Fox in reconditioning, if not the morgue. 

Anger swells in his chest at the thought of being someone’s puppet and not being able to do anything about it. Even if control chips are the reason, Fox doesn’t know where to begin with research. All those files would be on Kamino and he doesn't know any of the troopers stationed there. Not to mention, who besides his batchmates would exactly help him let alone believe him. General Skywalker seems too chummy with the Chancellor for Fox’s liking and he doesn’t know the other Jedi generals well enough to trust them. Not to mention, both Kaminoans and the Senate have the Jedi Council wrapped around their finger. Fox’s certain his findings would be dismissed and he’d be punished for sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong. 

Fox huffs and rolls his shoulders, trying to elevate the tension building in them. He needs to relax. 

“Hey, Fox!” A blue nautolan smiles in passing, juggling a large 3D model in her arms. Two of her classmates linger behind to chat with Fox, however, with their own models in hand. They’re art majors, if Fox remembers right. 

Being here, surrounded by people learning about not only the galaxy they reside in but themselves as well, nurtures daydreams about a life after the war (if he’s given the choice to have one at all). What would he do with newfound freedom? Fox doesn’t know the answer to that question, not yet anyway. And maybe he shouldn’t dwell on it. There’s no guarantee he’ll survive the war. One way or another. 

If Fox wasn’t a commander, he’d request to be stationed here permanently. It’s much more exciting here, if not entertaining, and the people here are certainly friendlier. Two hours into his shift, he’d already witnessed a rodian too occupied by their datapad walk into a pole, a stray tooka steal a togruta’s donut, and a chagrian fall into the fountain after trying to balance on its lip. He’s also lost count of how many students and faculty members have thanked him for his service, brought him gifts (usually treats), requested to take a selfie with him, or asked for his opinion on a variety of subjects: the war, the treatment of clones, who’d he want to see elected as the new Supreme Chancellor. A deep sense of relief washed over Fox when his fellow guards shared their thoughts on the latter too and came to realize he’s not the only one wanting Palpatine out of office. 

“His term should’ve ended regardless of the war,” a chiss wearing a red Coruscant Guard t-shirt says. (Since clones aren’t paid, the Clone Rights club does fundraisers to support pro-clone businesses so they have somewhere to socialize besides 79’s. It’s also part of this larger project to help clone-civilian relations). “Amending the constitution on such grounds threatens our democracy. It opens the door for him to become the exception to more and more rules.” 

“The war’s at a stalemate too.” The togruta from this morning frowns, the facial markings above his eyes scrunch in frustration. “While here’s plenty of other reasons to support his removal from office, a new leader could offer—”

The clock tower chimes: it’s already 1300. 

With a yelp, the pair toss a farewell over their shoulders before taking off in a dead sprint towards the Center for the Arts. The sudden attention, appreciation, and consideration always leaves his head spinning and heart stuttering. It's a wonder he hasn’t gone into cardiac arrest yet. 

As his eyes pan the campus crossroads for the umpteenth time, Fox wonders if he’ll meet that civilian from last week again. There’s a thousand reasons why he won’t see her again, of course. Maybe all her classes are on the other side of campus, maybe her schedule doesn’t align with his, maybe she’s on a field trip. Her being sick is also a possibility—there’s a bad case of the flu sweeping across campus, after all. 

Fox has been thinking about her more than he’d like to admit. The way she looked at him that night...it was genuine. Like, she saw _him_. Behind his helmet and professionalism, she somehow saw that he was hurting and cared enough to ask. The handprint her words left on his heart lingers. 

“You okay?” She said softly, as if he’d shatter into a million pieces right then and there—and he might’ve. 

_Yeah_ , Fox thinks. He’s starting to feel a little okay. 

“What the kriff?!” 

Fox’s train of thought comes to a screeching halt and he whips around to face his fellow guard—a shiny named Jinx—and finds him staring upwards at one the buildings diagonal to them. Following Jinx’s line of sight, Fox finds what caught his interest: a yellow twi'lek, donning a bookbag and a UC varsity jacket, scaling the drain pipe and already at the third floor. 

“Yep, that’s her,” Fox murmurs so quietly he barely hears himself say it. 

Considering the stunt she pulled when they first met, Fox wouldn’t put it past her to try anything else reckless when running late. Not to mention, the porg keychain’s a dead giveaway. 

The two watch as she reaches the fourth floor, shimmies across the window ledge, and slaps her classroom window. Another pair of students, he assumes, haul her inside. 

Fox’s lips press into a firm line behind his helmet. They need to talk about her questionable decisions. 

* * *

An hour later, Fox finds her leaving the building, thankfully, through the main entrance. With a racing heart, Fox abandons his post, only realizing halfway that he doesn’t remember her name—he’d only glanced at her license that night. Kriff. 

The Force takes mercy on Fox, however, and she notices him approaching. 

“Oh! Hey.” Her smile is dazzling and something blooms in his chest at the sight. “I, uh, never got to thank you for not giving me a ticket.” 

“Just didn’t want to make your day worse,” he says and it’s technically not a lie. “But I didn’t come here for you to thank me: I saw you scaling Organa Hall.”

He jabs a thumb towards the building for effect. 

“Oh?” She feigns ignorance, eyeing him playfully, and Fox isn’t sure where the sudden confidence came from. “Are you sure it wasn’t some other yellow twi’lek?” 

“I’m sure.” 

Her smile slowly recedes at the seriousness in his tone. “Sorry,” she says. “I, uh, had an exam and didn't want to be late.” 

“Elevators exist, ya know.” 

“I know,” she says quietly, but not quite embarrassed. More disappointed that she got caught. “You’re not going to give me a ticket, right? Are there even tickets for that sort of stuff?

Fox actually snorts at that. “No. Just be more careful. Though—” a smile becomes evident in his voice— “I can see why you’re on varsity.” 

Her smile turns and Fox decides he likes it when she smiles. “Careful, I might not be able to fit my head through the elevator doors.” 

“Or the window.” 

They share a brief laugh together before she asks a question, a very simple one, that fries his brain for a moment: “Do you wanna grab some food?” 

“Sure,” he says, a little breathless and glances at the chronometer on his commlink. “My shift just ended.” 

As the two make their way towards the food court, Fox knows that if he gets to see her more often then, yeah, he might start liking guard duty.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
